


An Inescapable Truth

by SummerLeighWind



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Amnesia, Female!Pitch Black - Freeform, Gen, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Rule 63, Self Loathing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 06:01:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerLeighWind/pseuds/SummerLeighWind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walking back a few steps, Pitch black looks around with listless eyes. Eventually, she chooses to sit. Uncaring of the dust that turns her black dress to gray, Pitch Black's thoughts wander back to her missing daughter. She wonders if the girl hates her for what she's become.</p><p>(She does).</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Inescapable Truth

She is the monster in the darkness, the one hiding in your closet, in the space beneath your bed, however she is more than this also. Pitch Black may not remember being young, being in love, or mothering a child, but she does recall coming into existence one night a great long time ago. But impressions, feelings, and mannerisms hint to her that she _was_ someone else before that black, black night. Once upon a time, she had been someone who was young, who loved, who mothered a babe, and then gave up their life to ensure the life of her child.

Most days, Pitch can live with this knowledge; it doesn't bother her. But on other days, it brings her to near-insanity with the tears and rage. A rage so powerful, it can cause her to raise the world if no one is there to stop her, (which has happened). What bothers her most about her past-life is the missing child. The ache it causes her. From the phantom heft of a child that weighs her arms down, to the perpetual tingle of her cheeks from an affection no longer received, and tittering laughter of a girl that she cannot find no matter how hard she searches. It's debilitated her before, this missing babe. It has made her sink to the ground and sob. This, of course, doesn't mean Pith hasn't tried to fight the pain. At times, she has tried to push past it, but the loss of a child, (even one she can't _remember_ ), is something no one can ever forget.

It becomes one of those awful, pitiful days, when Pitch stops in her task to look down upon a round-faced little girl. As she drinks in the girl's beauty, Pitch can only think of caressing the undefined features and pressing innocent kisses to her eyes, nose, and cheeks. Against better judgment, she does so and when she pulls away to see a smile on the freckled face, Pitch feels a warmth burble in her chest and through her veins. Fingers flitting through the girl's hair, Pitch begins to hope. Maybe…Maybe she doesn't need to scare children. Something vicious rips at her hope moments later, though, because the little girl's blonde lashes flutter open and she _sees_ Pitch. Before Pitch can do anything, the child is _screaming._ All hope dashed, she is gone even before the girl's mother or father can reach her.

Wandering the streets of the world, the Queen of Nightmares cries out her pains. She makes sure the whole darkened world is left seeking shelter from her shrieks and wails. She doesn't care who sees her, not the Man in the Moon, the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy or even Jack Frost, because her heart _aches_ for the bundle she once held in her arms, for the toddler who pressed a thousand kisses upon her cheeks and the girl who laughed so beautifully. Eventually, Pitch collapses to her knees and curls in on herself. Tiny feet that no longer exist kick her empty womb.

Suddenly Pitch is granted reprieve from the haunting sensation when a hand lays itself gently on her shoulder. Jolting up in response, Pitch Black looks to see Mother Nature beside her. "What are you doing here?" she demands.

Hand stroking Pitch's midnight locks, Mother Nature doesn't say anything at first.

"Well?" Pitch asks for a second time.

"One could here your anguish across the globe," she says.

Dropping her gaze to the ground, Pitch whispers, "How can you miss someone you can't even remember?"

Mother Nature stills in her petting. "Because you loved them," she finally answers in hushed, honest tones.

Shifting so she can stare easily into the other's face Pitch admits with great misery, "I wish I hadn't."

Mother Nature gasps. "How can you say that? I - She _loved_ you too…"

Looking at her empty arms, Pitch murmurs, "I shan't ever hold her again, I shan't see her, hear her, smell her! I won't ever have her again!" she howls. "My babe is no longer mine and dare I utter it? Dead!"

Mother Nature's green tinged fingers hover just above Pitch's wrists. It's as if she's unsure touch will hurt or help Pitch through her break down. Eventually, though, she decides against it when she curls her fingers into her palm and shoves it behind her back. Biting her lip, Mother Nature says, "I could give you another, I could-"

"No!" Pitch snaps, effectively cutting Mother Nature off. "It won't be the same, they won't be _mine_!" Voice wavering into a whimper, she gazes into the other's beetle-black eyes, "I want _her,_ not some replacement."

Moving closer yet again, but still holding back her touch, Mother Nature searches Pitch's countenance in earnest. "What if I could tell you she is alive? Well? Content? Would you believe me?" she asks.

The Queen of Nightmares laughs. It is bitter, but not cruel. "I wouldn't believe you," Pitch confesses, "no matter how much I may want it, she is of that first world - the one I turned into nothing but a _rock_."

Mother Nature looks as if she has something to say, but the courage leaves her like a summer shower leaves the sky blue. She looks away. "You are likely right," she agrees. "It pains me to see you so hurt-"

"I've never understood why," Pitch cuts in, a sneering smile on her gray lips.

Jaw setting, Mother Nature pushes on. "I just want you to be well, not to feel the need to inflict others with hurt because of your wounds."

"My dear," Pitch purrs, "that will _never_ happen. It's only a matter of time before I get my way and this world is like all the others."

Taking a step back, Mother Natures turns and glares into the distance. "It hasn't happened yet, Pitch. I have my doubts your wish will ever turn fruitful," she says.

Pitch gives a laugh that is both potent with rage and brittle with despair. "You think so, do you? I guess we'll just have to wait a while longer to see who's right," she jabs with savage energy.

Casting the once-mother a cold glance, Mother Nature thins her lips into a line no thicker than a blade of grass. "Indeed," she says. With that said, she disappears.

Walking back a few steps, Pitch black looks around with listless eyes. Eventually, she chooses to sit. Uncaring of the dust that turns her black dress to gray, Pitch Black's thoughts wander back to her missing daughter. She wonders if the girl hates her for what she's become.

(She does).


End file.
